Page 6 of Vicious and Volatile (Vengeance and Venom #2)

W e had our day of recovery. A day of normalcy. A day to reconnect with family. A day to declare the vulnerable truth. A day to unite in every way possible.

But now the clock is ticking.

Now, time means something again.

We have the record. It’s coded, so we don’t know exactly which one is Ophelia. But before we can rescue anyone, we have to make sure the man who put them in such a perilous position can never do it again.

We have to take out Augustus.

I’ve never plotted someone’s death before. I never thought myself capable of condoning murder.

But Augustus has changed that.

What he’s done is unforgivable. And he will continue doing it. More people. More sales. More innocent lives taken from them.

“Augustus left Manhattan the day you were taken,” Ares says, sharing details I’ve wondered about but haven’t asked after yet. He paces in the study we never go in. It’s a beautiful space, it just hasn’t served much of a purpose for us yet. But it seems a fitting place to plot the demise of an evil, rich man. “He hasn’t answered my calls since. He has a location blocker on his phone. He knew damn well I’d be coming after him.”

“He thinks you’ll eventually forgive him for what he did,” I say flatly as I lean back in the expensive leather chair, crossing my arms over my chest. “He told me so. He seemed delusionally confident in it.”

“Fucking bastard,” Ares growls as he shakes his head. The coldness in his eyes is enough to freeze over Death Valley. He stalks to the desk and drops into the chair. He steeples his fingers together, staring over the tips of them, his eyes not focused on anything in particular. I can practically see the gears whirring in his head. “He’s going to be cautious in coming back to the city. He’s got to know I’m on to him. There were obviously cameras at his warehouse. If he saw you, he saw me. He knows I set his prisoners free.”

“So, what does it take to lure him back here? Or how do we find him and go to him?” I ask, because it’s what this all boils down to.

Ares doesn’t answer right away. He’s running through scenarios in his head, evaluating all the possibilities. “It’s simply not realistic for me to play it that I don’t care about you and I just ask him to come back. He’ll know I’m lying, and he’ll never show up.”

“So, we need to go to him,” I state.

Ares nods. “He’ll be somewhere he’s comfortable. Somewhere he can wait me out for a while if need be. But business doesn’t stop just because he’s hiding.”

“Which, most of it’s in Manhattan, right?” I ask. Ares nods. “Seems like he’d stay in the same time zone then,” I say, arching a brow.

“I agree,” Ares says as he sits forward. He opens the laptop that has been lying there and opens it. I walk around the desk so I can see the screen. With a couple of keystrokes, Ares pulls up a list. There are addresses and parcel numbers. “These are all properties Augustus owns. If we eliminate all the ones that are in New York…” A few more strokes, and the list shortens significantly. “And then all the others that are outside of Eastern Time…” The list shortens even more. We’re still left with about fifteen properties.

“What about proximity to an airport?” I ask as I study the list. About half of them are town names I don’t recognize which makes me think they’re small towns. “Augustus would want to be able to get somewhere quick. If he needs to take care of business, he’s going to want to get on a flight, right?”

“That brain of yours is one of those reasons I love you, Vengeance,” Ares says with a wicked grin. I bend down, kissing him once, though it’s branding, something deep and serious. But we both turn our attention back to the screen. This task takes us a little longer. We check each town name with a proximity to an airport. Within ten minutes, we eliminate another seven properties, leaving us still with eight possibilities.

“What about any other Red parties?” I ask, my throat instantly feeling tighter. “Have you gotten any notifications about any new ones? They could be outside of New York.”

“I haven’t,” Ares says, and I see something spark in his eyes. “As far as I can tell, that last one I got a notification about got cancelled, the one that was supposed to happen right after you got taken. But now that his Jersey warehouse is compromised, he’d need somewhere he could get away with storing people. ”

Just that statement right there is reminder enough why we’re hunting Augustus, why he’s going to meet a bloody end.

Ares copies each address and puts it into an overview map. The first two are apartment buildings. It would be nearly impossible to get away with hiding people there. Another is a luxury townhouse. Same there.

“He may be hiding where he kept me,” I say as I chew my lower lip. “There weren’t any windows in that place. It either felt like I was in a basement, like at Lawrence’s, or like I was in a warehouse type situation, like in Jersey. This one wasn’t set up for prisoners, not like the Jersey warehouse.”

“That rules out the two Florida properties, and the one in New Orleans,” Ares says, hope dawning in his tone. “You can’t do basements there or you’d be in the water. This leaves just two possibilities.”

I scan the addresses. One is in Virginia, the other in Philadelphia.

“I was drugged when Augustus’s goons took me,” I say, the words coming out fast as the idea strikes. “Unless Augustus took a private jet with a pilot and crew that asked no questions, it would have been hard to fly with me. But it’s only a two-hour drive to Philadelphia. We easily could have driven there.”

Ares places his hands on either side of my face and pulls me in for a kiss. The expression he wears is wildly gleeful, vengeful, and proud, all at once. “I’d bet anything that’s it then. Pack a bag, Vengeance. We’re going to shed blood in Philadelphia.”

I expected Ares to pack a bag full of weapons. Daggers, stakes, guns, anything deadly and possibly illegal.

But he packs nothing .

I guess his fists and fangs are all the weapons he needs.

He does however pack me plenty of weapons to defend myself. He makes sure the gun he gave me the night we met is loaded. That there are extra bullets. He makes sure I know how to load it. I don’t know where the hell they’ve been hiding, but he produces a dozen wooden stakes. He even has a ten-inch-long dagger. He places all that in a bag before handing it to me. “I’m not going to let anyone get within biting distance of you, but you’re damn capable, Vengeance.”

I can hardly even explain what his faith in me does for my confidence.

Twenty minutes later, we walk out to the curb where a nondescript silver car pulls up.

“Charlie Adams?” the driver asks as he climbs out.

“Yes,” my other half answers as he pops the trunk and places our bags inside. The driver hands the keys to Ares and heads down into the subway entrance just outside our building.

“Charlie?” I ask as I raise an eyebrow. We climb into the car, and Ares takes off.

“There’s been times where I couldn’t use my actual name,” Ares explains as he navigates through the light evening traffic. “Charlie Adams is one of my least frequently used pseudonyms. What we’re doing tonight?” he shakes his head. “I can’t be Ares Hunt.”

I swallow once at that. Of course he can’t. He’s planning to slaughter someone tonight. He can’t rent a car under his name, just in case they somehow get linked.

I don’t ask any more questions as we race through the night. The air is heavy, thick. I try to play it out in my head, how this is all going to go. But I’ve never been part of something like this. So how could I ever picture it?

The moon hangs low, casting an icy glow over the darkened woods as we pull down the secluded road leading to the address. We’re just a little outside the city. It’s almost suburban out here, except the properties have grown larger, the homes more spread out. When the GPS says we’re a quarter mile from our destination, Ares pulls over into a utility access area. There isn’t another soul around.

Ares cuts the engine, the sudden silence as suffocating as the tension that’s been building between us for the last two hours. His hands grip the steering wheel so tightly that I think it might snap.

“You okay?” I question, wary about his reserved actions.

His head turns sharply, his dark eyes piercing mine. “I shouldn’t have brought you along for this. What the hell was I thinking?”

I lift my chin, matching his intensity. “Augustus took me. Took my best friend. Trust me, I want to watch him suffer the consequences. I’m not leaving you. Not for this, not ever.”

Ares’ gaze softens for a fraction of a second before hardening again. He exhales, the sound heavy, resigned. “Stay close to me. Don’t try to be a hero.”

I nod, even though we both know I’ll do whatever it takes to have his back.

We step out of the car and Ares pops the trunk. He digs through my weapons bag, handing me the gun and the leg holster that I also didn’t know he had. He helps me fit it correctly, then straps a belt around my middle, one that fits the stakes and the dagger perfectly.

“You use every ounce of strength you got if it comes down to it,” Ares says, obviously hating the taste of every word on his lips. “If you use the gun, aim fucking true.”

I want to say that’s never going to happen since I’ve never fired a gun in my life, but that’s going to help nothing right now. So, I simply nod.

We turn down the road, and set off through the trees. Ares moves like a predator, his movements quiet and calculated as we make our way through the woods. And finally, faint lights filter through the leaves, and a mansion comes into view.

The faint sound of footsteps crunching on gravel reaches my ears, and Ares holds up a hand to stop me.

“There are guards,” he whispers, his voice so low it’s almost inaudible.

I strain my eyes and catch a glimpse of movement near the mansion’s perimeter. Two men, armed but clearly not expecting trouble. Ares motions for me to stay put, and before I can protest, he’s gone, a blur of shadow and speed.

What happens next is a silent display of brutality. Ares takes them down without a sound, his strength and precision terrifyingly efficient. One moment the guards are standing; the next, they’re crumpled on the ground, unmoving, each of them lacking a head now. He steps back into view, his expression unreadable, and gestures for me to follow. I intentionally don’t look down at them as we walk past.

My heart pounds as we approach the mansion. The closer we get, the heavier the air feels. I recall that red room, the one I woke up in. The one where Augustus told me I was about to be sold. The one he held me as prisoner in.

Everything in me screams that this is the same place.

This house is a mausoleum of secrets and sins, and at its center is the man who tried to destroy both me and Ares .

Ares leads the way to a side entrance through a garden. He places a hand on the door, tilting his head slightly as if listening. His stillness unnerves me. He looks like a statue carved from pure tension.

“I don’t hear anyone else inside,” Ares reports. “He obviously wasn’t expecting us to find him.”

I nod, my heart rate doubling as Ares pushes the door open.

Inside, the hallway is dimly lit, the infrequent bulbs casting eerie shadows along the walls. The air is stale, heavy, and smells faintly metallic. My pulse quickens as I step in behind him, my sneakers nearly silent against the concrete floor.

We move deeper into the belly of the mansion, Ares gliding ahead like a shadow come to life. I stalk behind him, my eyes darting in every direction. Every sound—every distant creak, every faint hum of electricity—feels amplified in the oppressive silence. Every step feels like a countdown to the moment we’ll face Augustus.

When we reach the back of the house, Ares stops in front of a pair of ornate double doors. He looks back at me for a moment. He doesn’t have to say a word, but I get his question loud and clear. Are you ready?

I nod, though my hands tremble slightly at my sides.

He pushes the doors open, and my heart jumps into my throat as Ares steps inside.

The air feels suffocating in Augustus’ opulent drawing room, thick with the scent of old leather and blood. The fire crackles, casting flickering shadows over the walls. Augustus sits in his oversized leather chair, a picture of calm, with a book in hand and a glass of blood on the table beside him. He looks up as we step in, and a slow, cruel smile spreads across his face .

“Ares,” he says, his voice smooth, almost bored. He closes the book with deliberate slowness, setting it down. “I expected you sooner.”

It’s a lie, but not a surprising one. If Augustus truly expected us, he would have had triple the security. But he’d rather look a liar than an idiot.

The weight of his father fills the room, but Ares steps forward, unshaken. His body radiates fury, every muscle taut, his fists clenched at his sides. I stay close behind him, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Running only delayed the inevitable,” Ares says, his voice sharp and low, like the edge of a blade. “You knew I’d find you.”

Augustus smirks, his gaze flicking to me. His amusement deepens, cold and condescending. “You still surprise me on occasion. I didn’t think you’d ever find her. I had hoped to free you from one so narrow minded. I see the attachment remains.”

I bristle, clenching my fists as Augustus rises from his chair. He’s tall, imposing, his every movement deliberate and commanding.

Ares takes a step closer, his voice a deadly growl. “Say another word about her, and I’ll end this before you can finish.”

Augustus moves before I can blink, a blur of speed as he lunges. Ares meets him halfway, and the impact is thunderous, shaking the walls. The two of them collide in a vicious clash of strength and rage, faster and more violent than I can track.

They’re a blur of fangs and fists, slamming into furniture and shattering glass. Augustus fights with ruthless precision, but Ares is fueled by something deeper—something wild and unrelenting. Every blow lands with a sound that makes me flinch.

I stand frozen for a moment, my mind racing. The fight is brutal, but then Augustus’ eyes flick to me, and I see his intention a split second too late.

He lunges at me.

His hand wraps around my throat, lifting me off the ground as easily as if I weighed nothing. He flings me around, placing me between him and Ares.

“This is why falling in love is foolish, son,” he snarls, his fangs bared.

A primordial snarl from Ares fills the air.

I don’t panic. Instead, my vision turns red.

Just as I feel sharp fangs prick my neck, I reach for the belt my waist, and I yank out one of the stakes. With everything I have in me, I swing it back, burying the wood deep into Augustus’s lower gut.

He roars in pain, releasing me. I collapse to the floor, gasping for air, my hand flying to my neck to stem the blood. Ares is on Augustus in an instant, slamming him into the floor with enough force to crack the wood beneath them. Desperately trying to suck in oxygen, I turn on the floor, my eyes frantically searching the fight.

But Augustus isn’t done. He twists, landing a brutal blow to Ares’ ribs that sends him reeling. As Ares goes crashing across the room, Augustus grabs a splinter from a table they smashed. He flings it at his son, even as I scream his name in warning.

The wooden shard catches Ares in the arm, but grazes off. But Augustus doesn’t stop for one second. With a savage roar, he collides with Ares, landing atop him, his hand wrapped around his son’s throat, pressing down with the weight of decades of cruelty.

“You’re nothing,” Augustus hisses, his voice venomous. “All these years, I thought I could beat your mother’s ridiculous valor out of you. Guess it’s time to focus on another heir.”

I draw the gun from its holster. I pull the hammer back. I level it with Augustus’s chest.

And I fire.

Blood sprays through the air, my bullet catching Augustus in his collar bone.

It’s the opening Ares needs.

He swings a leg up, hooking it around Augustus’s neck. With a grunt, Ares flips his father off him, his head hitting the floor with a deafening crack.

Ares pins Augustus to the floor with his knee on his chest.

Augustus snarls, his voice strained. “Killing me won’t make you any better than I am.”

Ares leans in close, his voice low but deadly. “Your evil ends here though. And the difference between us is, I kill to protect what I love.” His fingers close around the shard of wood that grazed his own shoulder. With a savage burst of strength, Ares drives the wood into his father’s chest.

Augustus’s eyes fly wide, brilliant red as he stares up into his son’s face. There, I see shock. He never saw this outcome. This is a man who has gotten away with anything he’s wanted for decades. He’s powerful. He’s rich. He was immortal.

But even vampires can be killed.

Ares shoves that wooden shard deeper into his father’s chest. Augustus lets out one sad, underwhelming breath.

And I can’t breathe as the light in his eyes dies. Blood pours onto the ground, staining Ares’ hand. The color leaches from Augustus’s body, until he’s completely gray.

He lies there on the ground, still. Silent.

Dead.

Silence falls. The only sound is my ragged breathing.

Father.

Trafficker.

Billionaire.

Asshole.

Dead.

Ares staggers back, collapsing into a nearby chair. Blood streaks his face, coats his hand, his chest heaves. The haunted look in his eyes propels me. I crawl to him on my hands and knees. “Ares,” I breathe his name as I pull myself up with his chair, my hands trembling as I reach for his face, wiping away the blood.

“It’s over,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

His dark eyes meet mine, and for the first time, I see the weight he’s carried for so long lift, if only a little. “It’s over,” he echoes.

There’s a body lying on the ground. There’s blood everywhere. It looks like a small bomb went off in this study. But despite all of it, I feel… free.

The world is down one evil man.

Ares seems to shake out of his stupor. He blinks three times, and turns to face me. And panic suddenly lights in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asks, gently reaching for me. He turns my head to the side, taking in the shallow puncture marks in my neck, and the redness from Augustus’s grip. “Fuck, that bastard bit you! ”

“It’s not the first time,” I say with venom as I eye his dead body.

“What?” Ares asks in a horrified hiss.

“When he first took me,” I say, shaking my head. “It doesn’t matter now anyway. You made him pay for it.”

“Should have made it a lot slower,” he snarls as his eyes go back to his father. Ares tugs one of those stakes from my belt. With a quick flick, it sings through the air before it strikes Augustus under the chin, burying itself up into his jaw.

I place a hand on Ares cheek, bringing his gaze back to mine. “I’m okay though. I’m sure I’ll be bruised in a few hours, but no permanent damage. Did you realize you’re bleeding?”

He curses as he follows my gaze, looking down at his shoulder. He tugs at his sleeve, revealing the scratch there. Though it was significantly deeper just a few moments ago. “It’ll be healed in a few minutes. Fuck, Vengeance,” his eyes are a little wild when he looks at me. “I can’t believe we… That you were here. Great shot, by the way.”

And it’s all so insane, it’s all been so chaotic, so dangerous that a little huff of a laugh escapes my lips.

Ares takes my hand and raises it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my palm. “Thank you, Vengeance.”

“For what?” I ask, my brows furrowing.

“For everything,” he says as he laces his fingers into my hair, staring into my eyes. “For persisting, even when things got dark.”

I lean forward, pressing my lips to his. Despite the carnage around us, the destruction, I feel calm. Here in this man’s arms, I feel calm. As if everything is right in the world.

“How about we clean this up and get the hell out of here?” I suggest .

Ares nods, kissing me one more time. And then he pushes up to his feet, pulls me to my own, and surveys the scene for a moment. “We need to make sure no one else is trapped here, and then we’re going to burn this place down, just like Lawrence’s house.”

For a moment, the bottom of my stomach drops out. I’m back in that red room, with Augustus’s fangs in my neck while I numbed out.

No.

I blink. I stand straighter.

No.

I am not a victim.

I am not weak.

I am not traumatized.

Once upon a time, the murders of my mother and sister defined me. It ruined my life. For years.

No more.

Augustus is dead. Justice has been served.

“Let’s look around,” I say, stepping forward toward the door.

There are four bedrooms. Four bathrooms. There’s a high-end kitchen. An immaculate dining room.

We find the door at the back of the butler’s pantry. It’s not exactly hidden, but it’s not obvious either. My palms feel a little slick with cold when Ares steps forward and pushes it open. He steps inside, and slowly, hesitantly, I follow him.

I expected stairs. I thought I must have been underground for the lack of windows. But we enter a very short hallway before there is a heavy door with an elaborate lock. I breathe a little easier when I see it isn’t currently locked though .

Ares pulls it open, and the red light spills out into the hallway.

“This is it,” I say with a nod as I look around. I stay in the hall as Ares walks in and scans the space. Thank the dark it’s empty. “This is where I woke up after Augustus took me.”

Ares mutters a string of curses. I see his fingers curl to form fists. The darkness in his gaze is all consuming.

“At least he hasn’t taken anyone else,” I say, trying to focus on anything but how it felt to be left here after Augustus told me I’d been sold. “And he’ll never take anyone again.”

I turn back toward the pantry and set off down the hall. As I think of the layout, I realize there was in fact a dead area of space between the garage and the back end of the house.

I was never underground, just trapped in a well-insulated, hidden area of the house.

I step out into the pantry and exit into the kitchen. From behind, Ares steps around me.

“You wait by the back door, Vengeance,” he says darkly as he walks back toward the study. “Don’t go out the front, just in case anyone drives by the house.”

I want to ask him why I’m waiting by myself, but Ares steps back into the study and closes the door definitively behind him.

Just two moments later, I hear a loud whack. I flinch. Three seconds after that, I hear another thud, this one softer sounding, as if something absorbed it.

You wait , Ares had said.

He doesn’t want me to see whatever he’s doing behind that closed door.

I rub my hands over my arms and work my way to the back of the house until I find the door. And there I wait, barely able to hear the sounds of destruction and vengeance across the house.

I try to think of the future, of what comes next as I attempt to block out the horror of this house. We have to find Ophelia now. We have to rescue her. And we have to do something about all the other victims taken from their lives. Does that fall on Ares and me now, to go and save all these people? Is that what our life will look like from now on, going and tracking people down? There will be endless fighting and death and tears and trauma if so.

Are we really ready to take that on?

I’m not sure how much later it is when I hear the sound of the door open and Ares steps outside. He’s gone for thirty or so seconds, and then I hear the sound of something being dragged across the floor. He walks out again, and once more, I hear something being dragged through the house.

Next, I hear Ares head into the garage. He returns just a few seconds later, and then I there is the sound of something liquid being poured out on the floor. Within a few seconds, the smell of gasoline reaches my nose. Just a few moments later, Ares backs into the kitchen as he pours out the rest of the liquid from a red can.

“Let’s go, Vengeance,” he says, his voice low and rough. I open that back door and walk down the stairs. Ares pulls some matches from his pocket, and once he’s sure I’m a good ten paces from the house, he lights one, and tosses it inside.

The flames instantly alight, ripping back throughout the house.

Ares takes my hand, and nearly at a run, we set out through the woods once more.

I glance over my shoulder as I hear a rushing sound, as if the flames have caught. Through the windows, I see fire dancing.

Evil men meet their final end in fire. Ares is their angel of death, the last thing they see, but fire sees their bodies out of this world.

By the time we make it back to the car, black smoke is ascending into the sky, visible even in the darkness of the night.

Neither of us says a word as Ares starts the car. He leaves the headlights off, and we turn back the way we came in, never driving in front of Augustus’s house.

Across the console, Ares reaches for my hand. Once again, his own hand is bloodied. It’s the third time I’ve seen his hands coated in blood from ending someone’s life.

But I’ve never trusted him more.